Bart threw us off at Kempton, and to tell you the truth we were glad to have escaped that ride. We thanked the horses for the lift, and raced ahead to the north. We didn’t know it at the time, but I realised Hobart was probably going to be the most southerly point of this journey.

We stopped for a stilton cheese surprise lunch in Melton Mowbray, with the surprise being that there was only cheese included. It was very nice though, and we can’t complain, although to call cheese solo a surprise is a bit cheesy.

King Wolfram is a Grey Tonic

The dust sandy road seemed to take on a greyish appearance after Melton Mowbray, and Angry told us it was because Wolfram was king here.

I thought it might be literary nonsense, and was shocked that something grey and wolfish could be king. I later became flabbergasted when I saw that it could even look good when the sun lit it up.

Angry’s agony auntish information had helped make me feel happy. My grey hair also brightened up, and one almost became green.